Revenge of the Petermännchen
by janinePSA
Summary: A new job brings new troubles: Evil Spirits! Ground–dwelling fosterparents! Gallons of chamomile tea! And in the middle of it all, Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm fighting to stay on top of the wave!contains thinking about incest, may contain dandruff
1. The art of illusion

**This was supposed to be a prequel to "Perfect Target", but it turned out to be more inspired by it, than actually fitting together with it seamlessly, since it is a different style.**

**It's supposed to be funny and while that's a good thing, it also means you can't take the characters serious all the time, which you should in "Perfect Target". I mean, I know, they were a bit teary and melodramatic, but I did take them serious.**

**The usual, I don't own the Brothers Grimm, though I wouldn't mind to, I don't own the Petermännchen, which I would be a bit embarrassed about owning …**

**Although, since it is a folk tale from the region I come from, I maybe do own it in a way, since folk tales belong to the people …**

**Aaaahhh, I know somebody's going to sue me for this.**

**Somebody probably collected these tales and feels very strong about owning them and just happens to stumble over this by a mistaken url.**

**I didn't say anything, I'm not claiming ownership of anything, really! Don't sue!**

**1. **

"I really think we have to reject this."

Pushing his glasses up, Jacob Grimm scanned the worn letter that had arrived this morning for what was at least the seventh time, shook his head and glanced over to the other man occupying the room, seeking a reaction.

Wilhelm Grimm was lounging on a narrow bed, that represented a good third of the room's scarce furniture.

With a little pang of envy, but also a good deal of admiration, that he could rarely suppress when watching his brother, Jacob reflected how Wilhelm could always look so perfectly casual in every situation.

Even here, in this room that reeked of old sweat, age-old dirt and something sickeningly sweet that he really didn't _want_ to identify, Will managed to pull off the appearance of a gentleman down on his luck: Certainly not enduring the most flattering circumstances right now, but with an amount of style, that nevertheless conveyed the impression that this was only temporary and that he belonged in far better circles by rights.

No matter where they went, Will tended to take to new surroundings like a fish to water and needed no more then a few hours to make the currents flow his way, to get far bigger fish to bow their heads as they swam by and to have far more exquisite fish giggle and cling to his tail fin all day long.

Yes, illusion was their business and Wilhelm was a master of the art.

Somehow he had managed to carelessly fling himself onto the bed in just such a position that the sun shining in put distinct highlights on his blond curls and bathed his skin in just the right amount of light and shadow to make him look perfectly gorgeous.

Jacob sighed.

Just once he would like to be able to imitate his brother's smooth charm, but to his constant dismay nature had seen it fit to bestow upon _him_ a permanent awkward clumsiness from her rich cornucopia of endowments.

Since the older Grimm still didn't answer, Jacob spoke up again: "What they want us to do is take the treasure. We have to present a treasure or we won't get paid. So it's a stupid job."

Finally Wilhelm cracked his eyes open and shook his head. "Why do they need us for this? I mean, I don't get it, why don't they just dig up the whole place?"

"Apparently the evil spirit would kill them if they tried. The rules is: One try, you're on your own and at midnight." his brother elaborated.

The older Grimm frowned, pulling himself upright. "You mean we're up against an evil spirit that's keen on fair play? No cheating or what? Didn't anyone ever try?"

"Not for years. They live in peace right now and no one wants to conjure the wrath of the Petermännchen down on them." Jacob replied and let a hint of sarcasm enter his voice as he went on: "But now they've heard about us and they thought if we deal with the supernatural on a daily basis we might as well get the treasure for them to fill up the city coffers a bit."

"That's ridiculous!" Jumping up from the bed Wilhelm walked a few steps and stretched his arms, yawning. "I mean, if we would find a treasure, why on earth should we hand it over and get a meekly share in return? We'd keep the treasure, no?"

Faking consternation, his younger brother raised an eyebrow at him. "Go on Will, that would so go against our reputation. Bad PR if you catch my drift. We're noble and brave heroes who like to help people. We just ask for a little recompense, to cover our expenses, that's all. Yes, we do tend to have rather huge expenses, but that's to be expected. It's tough work. And all the money goes into that. Barely a Kreutzer left to buy a crust of bread."

Wilhelm waved an irritated hand at Jacob's expression of mock-melodrama. "Yeah, yeah, stop it. There won't be a treasure anyway, will there?"

"That could prove to be the problem, yes. We can't dig the place up and go: 'Oh, treasure's gone, too bad, nothing to do, that'll be 20 Gulden for our expenses.' That just won't do." the younger man argued in serious tones again.

Acknowledging his brother's words with a nearly imperceptible nod, Will rubbed his eyes. "What if we present some fake treasure?" he suggested.

Jacob bit his lip. "Risky. I don't really think they won't notice. And I'd rather not be hanging from a convenient beam in the town's marketplace – head down and in my underwear."

For a second there Wilhelm's sleepy mind took a not altogether averse interest in that idea, but then was clubbed down mercilessly by a hasty inner censor. 'No, bad brain! Bad brain! No images of Jake tied up and in his underwear! Stop right now!'

Will slumped down onto a stool and pushed the hair out of his face in a gesture of tired defeat. "Yeah, you're right.

So what are we gonna do?"

"Maybe we'll just not accept the job?" Jacob ventured carefully.

Will's eyes, that had just given in to the lead-like quality of the lids again, immediately snapped open: "No way! We can't throw that away, it'll be weeks before we get the next chance. We are totally run out of money. And it's Christmas soon. No. So, here's the plan: We dig, treasure is gone, someone took it by day, clear breach of the rules, Peter-spirit is fuming with fury and becomes a real threat, unless – we eliminate him! Well?"

Obviously expecting approval and applause, Will looked up at his brother but Jake's face was sceptical: "You mean the Petermännchen never noticed someone stole the treasure? That's not very convincing if you ask me."

Will seemed slightly irritated by his brother's criticism: "Well no, he just checks at night you see. The treasure was probably taken years ago. And our evil spirit got cheated. He, … I don't know, he … can't see in daylight, or he, yes, he dissolves in daylight, can't come out into the sun, that's why he never noticed."

"That's vampires, Will …"

"Whatever. Spirits fall into the same category."

His brother's lax handling of the actual matter of their business always annoyed Jacob: "Oh come on, he puts up this riddle about the treasure being hidden under the seventh pillar and kills everybody who gets it wrong, but he doesn't have any precautions in place in case somebody sneaks in by day and nicks the stuff? That's pathetic!"

Equally annoyed at the non-estimation of his plan, Wilhelm raised his voice to match his brother's: "It's a spirit from a fairytale. They're never bright, just dangerous. They stick to their rhymes and rules and don't move with the times. In modern times you have to be more adaptable to changing situations and that is where they fail to keep up."

In reaction to this statement Jake stared at his brother with a carefully blank face: "Will? You know, this management course you took seems to have put some very strange ideas into your head …"

"I got it for free, plus all the food and drink I could get down, plus additional allowances, just for presenting myself with the organiser and assuring the potential customers that Wilhelm Grimm is going to be on the course as well." the older Grimm defended himself.

"Yes, yes, I know. I just don't think this nonsense about mythical creatures being rooted in the past and not up to the challenges of modern times is going to work with the townspeople. I-" Jacob started but was cut off by his brother.

"I've had enough of this. It's settled. This is what we're going to do. Don't worry, I'm a very convincing guy." he said, flashing a self-confident grin. "Anyway, when the Petermännchen is after them, they won't want to argue with the only people who can save them, no?"

**TBC**

**I'd like to say "Thank you" to everybody who reviewed one of my stories.**

**I got 4 reviews all in all and I'm ecstatic about each and every one of them.**

**I don't know if anybody who reviewed reads this story, but since 3 out of the 4 reviews were anonymous I at least want to try and express my gratitude via this way.**

**So: Thanks!!!! You've made my life happier in a little way. :-)**


	2. Pension Scheme

**2. Pension Scheme**

The small, cold town hall was stuffed with people.

As there weren't any chairs, they had just formed a close circle around the little pedestal upon which stood the brothers, together with the town's mayor. The latter was undeniably a walking cliché: small, round, red-headed and always sweating just enough to keep his forehead constantly covered in a glistening film of moist – but never enough to form beads.

Jake wondered if this plump and well-fed appearance just generally inspired confidence in people, so that you got the chance to become the first man in town, or if it maybe went with the job and you acquired it as soon as taking on the post, along with the chain of office.

He had introduced himself as Roland "Ah, no need for formalities, eh?" which suited his whole manner, that didn't seem to carry authority but more a kind of bustling good-will with a good lacing of anxiousness to displease anyone.

Already the mission had been assigned: Solve the riddle and retrieve the treasure.

Now Wilhelm was trying to get some information on what kind of costume they were going to need.

"All right. What's this spirit look like?" he asked, addressing the crowd that gathered around him.

A little man with small round glasses, standing in the front row, waved a hand in dismissal: "Oh, he only comes out if you choose the wrong pillar."

Will forced a smile."Yeah, alright, but what's he look like?"

"You won't see him anyway, cause you're not going to fail, are you?" the man's voice carried no hint of doubt, just stated the facts.

"Nonononononononono. No. No." the older Grimm hurried to deny and gave a nervous little chuckle to indicate what an absolutely ridiculous and absurd notion that was.

"No, um, just in case, you know, in case he, he's annoyed at someone taking the treasure after all this time." Jake tried. And his brother immediately jumped to his aid: "Yeah, you know, he sits around for years, guarding that treasure and then someone comes and takes it and he is suddenly without occupation in life. … Or undeath, … or whatever. He might get grumpy."

The man, whose name had earlier been given as Bertwin and who was apparently the local expert on the Petermännchen, didn't quite accept this: "I always understood that his soul will finally be at peace then."

Wilhelm hardly missed a beat: "Um, yeah, sure, but, you know how it is: All your life you're complaining about how all you do is toil and break your back and how you long for a bit of peace and suddenly you're looking at a long time of retirement and while it's peaceful, you somehow feel all empty and start suing your neighbour over a bit of garden fence and calling the police if you see people crossing the road at the wrong point …"

Bertwin's face screwed up in thought: "You mean we should set up a pension plan for the Petermännchen? Ask him to join the gardener's club or the senior tea party committee?"

"I _mean_, you should just give us a description so we can deal with him in case he turns up after all." Wilhelm tried to get back to his concern.

"Mind you, Mr. Schmidt from over in Backsteinstreet, he didn't turn out well in the end. Kept hanging around the old smithy and getting in the way." another voice from among the people remarked.

Will got the rarely experienced impression that he was being ignored: "Yes, yes, so, what does he look like?"

But the voice wasn't to let go of its topic so quickly: "And he was getting absent-minded too. If Paul hadn't been so quick in pushing those children out of the way there would have been a horrible accident and no mistake."

A murmur of agreement started to rise from the crowd.

"So, about the outward appearance of this evil spirit, could you …" Wilhelm tried again, but no one was listening to him. The whole room started to fill with the buzz of gossip.

"I'm partial to a game of chess myself since I retired. Keeps your brain going."

"I still can't believe he left the smithy to Paul after all. It was never really proved he was his son."

"He's a good lad at heart though."

"Early morning walks, that's the thing. Getting out into the fresh air, giving the old bones a bit of an airing…"

"I didn't even know we _had _a senior tea party committee. Why was I never invited to any tea parties?"

"SHUT UP!"

Falling suddenly silent the room turned multiple pairs of surprised eyes on the older Grimm. Wilhelm gave a mask-like smile and continued with forced calm: "Right. If someone could be so good as to describe the Petermännchen to us? It is of vital importance to the whole mission." 'Are we getting paid enough for this?' he wondered to himself.

An elderly man with a face like something that had been left out to dry and never been recognized to take back in since, was the first to answer: "Well, no one has seen him for years. But my old granny always told me he looks kinda like a dwarf."

"A dwarf?" repeated Wilhelm with a deadpan look.

"Well, kinda. Small, you know. And with a long beard and this funny pointed hat if I remember correctly."

"Funny hat. And small." Will summarized in a slow tone that conferred that this evil spirit could do with an image counsel, as it couldn't hope to inspire lots of dread fitted out like this.

The man seemed to pick up this scepticism and went on, waving his arms around to emphasize his words: "Yeah, kinda small, but he has these, you know, magic powers. He picks you up in the air and throws you around with these magic powers of his and then kills you stone-dead, smashing your body onto a marble step. That's how they found everybody who ever tried to take the treasure and failed: Lying on this white marble step with a broken neck."

His good audience reacted appropriately with hushed murmuring and lots of spitting to ward off evil influences.

After the sound of several ounces of saliva hitting the floor had died down, the man turned to the brothers whose quizzical expressions he apparently took for concern: "But don't worry about that. The Petermännchen is very dangerous and evil, but he sticks to his word. If you get the right dog he won't harm you."

Puzzlement painted an interesting, though rather abstract picture on the brother's faces: "Huh? What dog?"

"The seventh." the man retorted as if that was perfectly obvious.

"We have to take a special dog along too???" Wilhelm wondered if the sanity to question at this point was maybe his own.

"No, the tops of the pillars are in the form of dog's heads. In the original riddle the word is 'dog', but what is meant is 'pillar'." the man explained in a very clear and loud voice, as if speaking to a child.

This earned him a careful frown from the older Grimm: "Have you been neglecting your chess lately?"

If the subtle offence in that comment had been recognized by the man, he didn't show it: "No, really, you can see for yourselves tonight."

"Tonight?" Will hastily shook his head. "Nooo, I'm afraid that won't be possible. We need one more day to work out our strategy. This seems to be rather complex."

"It is perfectly straightforward actually, you just …" Bertwin started but was interrupted by Wilhelm's snapping patience:

"IT IS COMPLEX!"

Taking another deep breath he fought once more to regain his composure, but couldn't keep the strain out of his voice completely: "We're going to work out a strategy, an _expensive_ strategy I'm afraid, and recover the treasure tomorrow night. If you'll excuse us now, we have a lot of calculations to do …"

Interpreting this statement as the closing point of the meeting, the mayor took the word again: "Well, as you say, of course. Gives us a little more time to work on the pension scheme. What do you say people? Towns-meeting at Alfred's inn for a round of ale and a bit of civic spirit?"

While the assembled citizens cheered their approval, the mayor turned back to the brothers: "Sure you don't want to join us, sirs?"

"No thanks, I think I've got a headache coming on." Will replied stiffly.

Jake gave him an odd look. It wasn't like his brother to keep away from amusement and people who were ready to admire him.

When the last of the citizens had filed out of the room, Will closed the door very carefully and then started banging his head against it with a suffering cry. "Aaaarggh!"

Jacob didn't bother to look over, as he had already grabbed pen and paper to jot down what they'd be needing. "Stop it. We have to set up a plan."

Will turned to the younger one with a tortured look: "Gah, but these people, they were …"

"At least it wasn't just hysteric females, swooning over you and throwing their bosoms around." his brother commented dryly.

"Oh come on, female bosoms suit me a lot better than old men's ailments ."

"If you say so." Jake returned, not really interested.

"Are you trying to imply …?" the older man started, sounding angry.

Finally Jacob looked up at his brother, sighing: "I'm not trying to imply anything." And sounding tired he added: "Could we just concentrate on the job at hand please? Tomorrow night we have to convincingly present a dwarf with telekinetic powers. And a funny hat."


	3. A tale to remember

**3. A tale to remember**

"Right, you Jake, go in and dig up any of these stupid dog-shaped pillars." Wilhelm announced when they went over the concept with their associate the next day.

"Why me?" his brother asked a little crossly. Although they had developed the plan together, they hadn't yet decided on who played which part exactly and Will's bossy manner of stating _his _decision matter-of-factly, without even pretending that Jacob's opinion might carry any weight in the issue, was fairly irritating.

"Because _I _am good at talking and someone has to explain to this moronic town population what's going on. So, when you're finished, you realize that the treasure is gone and that, Willibald, is your cue."

The brother's associate in this case, Willibald, was a short man, who groomed his impressive beard mainly for impersonations like this. They had first seen him in a fair where he tried to get people to pay him for singing stupid songs from fairytales. It hadn't been a very popular number since his musical ability tended to frighten the children. Wilhelm had seen some promise there though.

Willibald's acting talent didn't range far above his canto, but his short growth made up for a lot and he was always ready to present himself as any kind of dwarf, gnome or other vertically challenged folkloric entity of their choice for very little money.

And while he wasn't exactly the brightest star in the milky-way, he was reliable and trustworthy.

Watery blue eyes, shadowed by a pair of enormous bushy brows to match the beard, watched Wilhelm intently, to catch all the requirements for their newest role.

"You jump out, screaming bloody revenge for your stolen treasure. We'll use the wire-device, so's Jake gets thrown up into the air, but before you break his neck, I'll rush down and safe him."

Jacob crossed his arms, looking a little sour. "Let me summarize this: I work a nightshift digging and get thrown around on wires while you just sit somewhere comfy until it's time to play the hero of the hour?"

"Yeah, you got that perfectly right." Will answered grinning broadly. "Very convincing, I think." Then his face took on a more thoughtful aspect when he continued: "So, mhm, I'll safe you with some counter-curse we had brewed up for emergency, but it doesn't destroy the spirit, that's important."

Turning to Willibald again he elucidated: "You got to scream something about how you're going to terrorize the whole town now. Then you throw this and vanish in a puff of smoke, all right?" And saying this, he handed Willibald a small vial.

"Right." The short man nodded.

"Good. Got your pointy hat?"

"Yep." The evil spirit to-be waved his trademark headpiece.

"Good. Then let's do it. Let's give these people a tale to remember."

**TBC**


	4. Master Digger

**New disclaimer: I certainly don't own MST, wish I would …**

**I guess you're going to spot the quote, unless, and I hope for your sake this is not the case, you haven't seen the "Final Sacrifice"-episode …**

**4. Master digger**

The place where the treasure was supposed to be buried, was the castle owned by the notorious Lord Peter, before he died and consequently turned into a demonic spirit, who killed people he didn't like the look of.

Apparently the only difference to his habits as a living person had been that he didn't need any sleep in between killings any more.

Nowadays the castle was just a ruin and all that was left of its former splendour were the five pillars of the great hall, standing in a circle and in their middle, the infamous white marble step.

While everything else, even the walls, had fallen to decay, this plateau stood miraculously intact, and could easily be observed from any spot of the surrounding debris.

A curtain would have added the final touch. It was the perfect stage, practically aching for some traffic.

Wilhelm had wanted to take one of the citizens along, as a witness for the Rising of the Petermännchen. But what he'd got, after much bickering and throwing of various vegetables, was a small delegation: Roland the mayor, old Karl and his mate Fridolin, Bertwin of course and Mrs. Schenker, the innkeeper's wife.

Paul the blacksmith, strong and good-natured, had not volunteered but the general agreement was, that he was somebody to keep his head around supernatural phenomena. He had once been seen working through a thunderstorm.

The people had been curiously eager to come along, considering that they were all in deep awe of their local evil spirit and feared him with all due respect.

Right now, the lot of them was eyeing Jacob rather sceptically.

"Why is _he_ going to do the digging? No offence meant, but he does look more like a paperclip-man to me …"

"What?" Wilhelm raised his voice in indignation before his brother could even react. "He once fought a bridge troll single-handedly. Armed with nothing more then a pen knife and a rotten piece of goat-cheese."

Jacob gave an embarrassed smile and tried very hard to look like someone who habitually wielded overdue dairy products with fatal ferocity, as once again inquisitive eyes mustered him all over.

"Yeah, maybe …" the doubting tone in Karl's voice was not quite restrained. "But that was magic stuff, I reckon that's different. This is about ordinary hard work."

The older Grimm put a hand on his brother's shoulder and treated his principals to a reassuring simper: "Well, Jacob is a master-digger. Really. Well, if I didn't know better, growing up with him and everything, I'd think he was raised by a family of moles."

Jake's smile took on a glassy quality.

"What, you mean like Alfred J. Kwak?**(1)**" the mayor wondered, furrowing his brow.

"Um, yes." Will agreed, not really emphatically.

Tapping his lips with two fingers the red-faced man squeezed his eyes half-shut in an effort of remembrance: "I don't think _he _was very good at digging. He doesn't have hands, just wings."

"Well, Jacob here does have a pair of hands, as you will see if you observe closely."

Spotting the strain in Wilhelm's voice the mayor hurried to give in: "Oh well, let's get started then."

"Well, off you go master-digger!" Will ordered cheerfully, slamming his brother's back.

"Raised by _moles_?!?" Jake hissed at him through tight lips.

"Well, it convinced them, no?" Wilhelm defended himself. "Now go and show a bit of muscle power, little brother."

Bracing himself Jacob walked over to the circle of pillars. "One day, I'm so going to give him a piece of my mind …" he mumbled to himself.

Pretending to do a few warming up exercises, he hooked himself to the wire-mechanism they had put up in the early morning hours. Then he grabbed the shovel and started digging.

From behind the little mound of debris, where they'd taken up station, the townspeople watched him critically.

"Oh my." sighed old Karl after about a minute.

"What?" Will frowned at him.

"I'm glad that poor old Mister Mole isn't here to see this, or he'd be averting his blind gaze in shame, mark my words."

"What?" Wilhelm repeated, feeling the anger rise in his chest.

"He does realize he only has one night for the task, does he?"

"Well, " Fridolin chipped in "he might be the first one to get his neck broken for absolutely miserable work with the shovel." Both men cackled.

"Eh, I don't know what's up with young people these days. They don't seem to be able to put up a decent day's work…" Karl shook his wrinkled head sadly.

"Will you lot shut up?" Will demanded infuriated.

"Yeah, you're being mean. He's working hard." said Mrs. Schenker in motherly tones. But then added with anything but maternal interest: "Look at the way he's sweating already. A treat for my sore eyes indeed."

"What?" not realizing that he was getting a bit repetitive, Will turned his head sharply and had to suppress a light shudder at the view that presented itself.

"Mind you, " Mrs. Schenker's voice penetrated his short absence "it's nothing against a hot summer's day at the smithy, eh Paul?"

Noticing that he was staring, Wilhelm tore his gaze away and turned back to the old lady, who was grinning from ear to ear and nudging a completely unabashed Paul.

"Will you stop …" Will started, but bit his lip and stopped in time. 'Will you stop lusting after my brother!?!' was not only ridiculous, but also rather hypocritical.

Mrs. Schenker interpreted his enraged look in a different way: "Oh don't worry laddie, you're a cute one as well." she smirked. "I wouldn't have minded you doing the digging."

Will jumped when he felt some rather private regions invaded.

'Christ!' he thought. 'Did this old frump just pinch my bottom? I don't believe these people. This is better going to be a well paid job…'

Karl and Fridolin had in the meantime found a new reason for complaining. "Are you sure this is the right dog? I always figured it was the opposite one."

"No!" Will shouted, patience slipping once again. "It is this one! We've worked it out, alright? By supernatural, heroical, scientific means of working magical riddles out in a very accurate and completely non-erring way! Right?"

"Yeah, all right." Karl gave him a disparaging look. "Do you know you got a bit of a temper?"

"Young hotheads." Fridolin agreed, shaking his head one more time.

"Would you like some chamomile tea to calm down?" Paul offered his first words for the night. "I brought some in my thermos flask."

**TBC**

**(1)**

**Does anyone even know Alfred J. Kwak? It used to be a children's cartoon series on TV, about this orphan duckling and he indeed was adopted and raised by a mole.**

**I did some research and found it was a Dutch-German-Japanese co-production. **

**Now that sounds weird …**


	5. Fall

**5. Fall**

_"Would you like some chamomile tea to calm down?" Paul offered his first words for the night. "I brought some in my thermos flask."_

"Hah! Chamomile tea." Karl scoffed. "You should have brought Obstler **(1)**. That's the stuff!"

The mayor, who up to that point had been busy toying with a piece of string he had found in his pockets, brightened up: "Ah, yes, did someone bring liquor? This is getting a bit tiresome you know."

"I could just nip home and get a bottle." Fridolin volunteered.

Will tried to weigh up the idea of this lot intoxicated against the thought of getting something down himself to make it through the night. He was just about to decide, that while the people couldn't get much worse, a shot or two would do his nerves no end of good, when he heard Jake give the pre-decided cry of dismay.

"Oh, sounds like he's done!" he shouted in relief and pointed towards his younger brother.

All thoughts about drinking forgotten, six necks craned eagerly to see what treasures were to come up before them.

"Jake?" Will shouted. "Did you find it?"

"No." came the answer.

"Eh, I said it was the other dog …" mumbled Karl. "Pity about the hedgehog-boy, though."

"The treasure seems to be gone." Jake screamed. "Someone must have taken it already."

"Whut? Whut he say?"

"He said someone else took the treasure." Wilhelm explained.

"Impossible." the mayor started, but a flash of green lightning and a bloodcurdling scream made him fall silent.

"Aw my god, it's him, the Petermännchen!" Mrs. Schenker screamed, throwing herself at Will.

Even Karl was momentarily speechless.

Down among the ruins an apparition with a long white beard and a huge pointed hat materialized from a cloud of green smoke.

"Ah, revenge, revenge!" it shrieked in high-pitched tones. "I have been tricked. Now I shall never find peace again. Revenge!"

Will grinned to himself at the townspeople's shocked faces. No pangs of conscience for these heavily armed warriors in the war of nuisance. Too bad you couldn't make out the green foam around Willibald's mouth in this bad light.

The little man with the funny headdress now started to wave his hands around in a rather strange manner.

Willibald had never mastered the art of gracefulness, so his 'motions of power' looked more like someone fighting a swarm of mosquitoes.

But style didn't matter. At the sight of Jacob being apparently thrown up in the air by magic the little group around Wilhelm turned into a quivering heap of fear.

Only Karl, who stood with his mouth hanging open, and Paul, who looked more concerned than actually terrorized, were not trying to hide behind the older Grimm.

The latter in the meantime was fully satisfied. That'd teach them a bit of respect. He'd known the wires were important. Jake had been a bit reluctant about this since he didn't enjoy being thrown around by their homemade mechanisms very much and generally disliked the fairground-aspect of it all. But Will had insisted: "They have to see what a threat this pointy guy actually is. So as they'll be sure to hire us for the exorcism." he'd argued.

'They certainly won't mock us again in a hurry.' Will thought satisfied and then tried to act his hero-part: "You got nothing to fear as long as you're with the brothers Grimm." he started when a short-breathed scream interrupted him.

It happened so fast that he couldn't even make out how. Jacob fell down from up in the air, his head smashing neatly onto the one marble step while the rest of his body ended up beneath it, thus lending an odd angle to the neck.

Beholding his brother's sprawled out form, Will felt an icy grip tighten around his heart.

"Just like the others …" Karl whispered into the shocked silence, his voice for once carrying nothing but honest dread.

"Oh my gawd!" Mrs. Schenker started the wailing again, but Will didn't hear her as he rushed down to his brother's side.

"Jake?" he asked, kneeling beside him and cupping the younger one's face tentatively in his hands. "Jake, are you all right? Can you hear me?"

"Ooh gods, my head. Ah …" Jake groaned trying to move to get up, but quickly deciding against it, at the spasm of pain that seemed to split his head in two.

"My God, Jacob, what happened?" A very flustered Petermännchen clambered over and leaned in over the casualty, dripping green saliva onto his face.

"Ew, Willibald, please …"

"Holy Jesus in Heaven!" Will breathed, slumping back in relief and feeling a little light-headed. "I thought you broke your neck…"

"Ahw, wish I had." the younger man moaned, forcing his head up a bit and palpating it with careful fingers. "God, this hurts…"

"Don't be an idiot." his brother snapped, angry at the thoughtlessly muttered words and started to unhook the wires from the younger man's clothing. "And for heaven's sake Willibald, get yourself away. Can't see anyone being frightened of a friendly first-aid-spirit. You're not supposed to be a Guardian Angel."

Willibald backed away obediently, but seemed to have lost track of his show and looked now rather hesitatingly at the two brothers.

"Aaaaarrggghhh." Will prompted through clenched teeth, steadying his brother who had managed to pull himself into something of a sitting position.

"What?" Willibald seemed bewildered for a moment, but than remembered his role. "Oh, yes. Aaaaarrggghhh, you have blinded me with this magic draught. But the effect is not permanent and I shall be back and destroy this whole town and everybody who lives here. Har Har!"

And with manic laughter the pointy hat stumbled away among the ruins.

**TBC**

**Oh, poor Jacob, I always seem to be giving him a headache.**

**I'll try not to torture him much any more ...**

**(1) **

**Obstler is a kind of liquor. I didn't find a suitable translation for it, so I'll just do a description.**

**It's a clear liquor, with about 40 alcohol, made from fruit. ('Obst' is 'fruit', literally)**

**Which fruit, I cannot say. It sure doesn't taste like fruit. It tastes more like something you use for cleaning if you want to make really sure that all the little germs wont live to see another second ...**


	6. Fight

**6. Fight**

"Don't be such a baby." Will snapped at his bedridden brother who had been moaning at an ill-considered movement of the head.

Wilhelm hadn't especially liked the way Paul the smith had snatched Jacob up in his arms and carried him all the way from the old castle ruins to his bedroom, even up the stairs, and was in a rather foul mood.

"Pardon me for breathing I'm sure …" Jake returned a little offended.

The older Grimm treated him to a long calculating stare and finally shook his head, sniffing: "How the hell did you manage to fall anyway?"

Jacob gave a careful and therefore very minimalist shrug. "Well, you were there. That stupid construction just came loose. It's actually a wonder nothing ever happened before. We're not carpenters, Will."

Wilhelm, who obviously wasn't interested in a discussion on workplace-safety, just pulled a face and looked away, saying nothing. But then a thought seemed to occur to him and he turned back again sharply: "You should have worn your helmet. I always tell you to wear your helmet."

"That stupid toy?" the younger one questioned in dubious tones.

"Are you insulting my handiwork?"

"Would I dare?" Jacob questioned in a weary sing-song voice.

"You'd better not!" the older man growled.

"However, " Jake started as he took off his glasses, which had quite miraculously survived the fall more or less intact, inspected them for a moment with a little frown and then put them back where they belonged. "I think this accident just reaffirms my view that we should try and find some better way to live. This stupid act could have killed me you know."

Completely unimpressed, Wilhelm gave him a disdainful look: "Oh please, stop being melodramatic. You hit your head, all right. You've had worse from walking into furniture when you've been on the ale…"

Somehow Jacob felt, that this description did not accurately mirror the facts: "You were the one who thought I broke my neck, no?"

With the memory of that ghastly moment when he had indeed been fearing for his brother's life still fresh in his mind, that statement struck a sensitive point in Will. Anger flared up in his eyes: "Oh yeah, right, use that against me. It was just the shock second. I didn't think clear. Anyway it soon turned out you were positively alive, if slightly bruised."

"Slightly bruised?" Jake asked incredulously. "Isn't that a bit of an understatement?"

"Certainly more appropriate then your exaggerated act of being unable to walk. Can you tell me how we are going to be considered the professionals here if you get carried home in the arms of the local muscle-lump like a newly-wed bride?" his brother answered, the sarcasm in his words biting like acid.

Jacob's ears tinged red at that description. "I didn't ask him to carry me. He just picked me up without …" he mumbled.

To be sure he had felt rather embarrassed and would have preferred to be let down, even if it probably would have been a bit of a torture to walk all the way home, seeing how he could barely move painlessly while lying down in bed.

Meanwhile Will took his brother's colouring rather badly. "Yeah, sure!" he snorted. "He carried you all the way against your will, I absolutely saw you struggling to get down."

"I was dizzy and hurting and didn't really feel up to making a scene." Jacob tried to defend himself, even though he wasn't sure what exactly he was charged with.

"Aha. So if someone comes and does what he wants to you, you just go along because you're to lazy to fight them, yes?"

The spitefulness and scorn in his brother's comment, to him so inexplicable and unmotivated, finally set Jake off as well: "What the hell are you going on about, Will? Paul was just being nice. Ok, it was a bit embarrassing but he was just being helpful. I don't remember _you_ trying to help me get home…"

Actually Jake had been hoping that his brother would protest and get him out of the slightly humiliating situation. Wilhelm was a lot better at forcing his will than he was, even when he hadn't just received a huge blow to the head.

But he knew that final accusation had been a mistake the moment the last syllable left his lips.

Will looked at him with so much fury he had to fight an overpowering urge to hide under the blanket. As usual, Jacob expected shouting, but his brother's voice was threateningly calm when he said: "Yeah. All right. I see … Why don't you ask Paul if he sits by your bed and holds your hand? I can think of better ways to spend my evening."

And with this exceedingly childish statement he hurried from the room.

When the footsteps on the stairs had faded, Jake leaned back on the pillow, sighing. What a great day. First the fall and now another fight with Will.

**TBC**


	7. Baring the teeth

**7. Baring the teeth**

Will was walking aimlessly along the dark streets, grumbling to himself. 'I wasn't helping, was I? Don't see what I would have been needed for. That walking six-pack was taking matters in hand in a very all-embracing way. Ha, maybe expected me to carry his stupid chamomile tea…'

But if he was honest with himself he knew he was being silly. Paul with his broad shoulders and well-meaning expression was really just being kind. He was the type of person that was kind to little kittens or baby birds that had fallen out of their nest and probably even wounded pythons or depressed sabre tooth tigers …

Yeah, all right, he was probably being a bit ridiculous.

But he was _not_ being jealous in any romantic, body-contact-involving kind of way …

A shout snapped him out off his daze: "Wilhelm! Over here!"

As he looked up, he saw Roland the town-mayor, silhouetted against the open door of a pub and waving madly.

When a moment later Wilhelm sat down at the table with the other citizens, a heavy hand fell onto his shoulder and Roland turned suddenly grave eyes on him: "Well, bloody great mess you've got us into."

Will was momentarily lost for words but, jumping up, he soon got his eloquence back. "Are you blaming us? My brother nearly got killed by your absolutely inadequate assembling of facts to the job. Only his incredible strength of mind and reaction senses honed to perfection by years of experience fighting the supernatural saved him from having his neck broken because of your failure to spot that someone stole the damn treasure. I mean, you gave us a task that was impossible to fulfil and made us risk our lives for nothing. We could very well demand compensation for this!"

The mayor, who had already been trying to sink so far into his chair that his enormous chin was nearly level with the seat, paled considerably. "You wouldn't …" he started with a nervous little laugh, that clearly was trying to state, that good old chums like them would not pettily ask each other for any stupid compensations.

Will's raised eyebrow managed to crush these hopes with a pin sharp transfer of two words: You bet!

Choking to a stop in his owner's throat the nervous little laugh took one look at said eyebrow, grabbed his spongebag and hurried off to make some good old chums elsewhere.

Preferably a long way off.

'Damn, I'm good.' Will thought to himself at the sight of the mayor faltering. 'Sometimes I wish I could press myself and glue me into my diary …

If I kept a diary that is.

Maybe Jake could glue me into that book of his. I'm certainly worth a legend. But actually, I suspect him of only pretending to write these stories down, but I think what he really puts down there are all his erotic fantasies that no one should no about in every detail. He always looks so absorbed writing in there …

So I wouldn't really want to be glued in the-… – hang on …' **(1)**

"Mr. Grimm?" the mayor waved a pudgy hand as politely as possible in front of the blond man, who had suddenly become very quiet, a glazed look in his eyes.

"What?" Will shook his head and tried to get on top of the situation again. "My dear Roland, no need to get all formal." Giving the mayor a toothy smile that somehow seemed to belong to a member of the cat family and not exactly the cute kitty side of it, Wilhelm sat down at the table again.

"Seeing as in your current situation of need and distress you will have to hire our services again, I think we shall come to an agreement. And I assure you, your previous little … blunder …, shall in no way persuade us to hesitate in rushing to your salvation." Another smile, that conveyed that while claws were not yet on display they were certainly a possibility and wasn't it just jolly-peachy that they didn't need to be, since everyone was _so_ of one mind?

But this time an intractable voice from the far end of the table dammed the smooth flow of Wilhelm's triumphal procession: "No need for that really."

The smile turned into a frown of disbelief. "And why ever not?

"We have developed a cunning plan to deal with the Petermännchen already." Bertwin announced proudly. **(2)**

"Ah ja? And what plan is that?"

"Well, we are going to start this chess-club where every member is supposed to wear a funny hat and he will be allowed to use his magic powers to move the pieces." the man explained in absolute seriousness.

"I don't really think that is going to appease him now." Will stated.

Bertwin turned to his fellow citizens with a mixture of self-satisfaction and paternalism:

"See? I _told_ you he must be allowed to cheat. You have to let evil spirits win."

"No way!" Karl declared resolutely. "I'm not going to loose just because some whiny evil dwarf cant think five meters ahead on his own."

"At least forgo your victory dance then."

"I've been working on the new choreography for weeks, forget it, Bertwin!"

"Well, then I'm afraid you can't join." Bertwin retorted in a strict voice. "We can't have you insult our cultural heritage, even if it comes in the form of a bloodthirsty maniac dwarf."

"Oh? Oh?" Standing up, Karl leaned in to his opponent over the table. "Well, I shan't then! Let's see how long your chess club is going to be popular then. I'll open my own one. Fridolin's joining, aren't you?"

"Sure thing."

Bertwin was positively appalled: "You can't do that!"

"Watch me laddie!"

The two men were now face to face, wrinkled obstinacy meeting red indignation.

"Please, friends, stop the fighting. We are all in this together, aren't we?" the mayor intervened.

"Yes, sorry, of course." Bertwin mumbled instantly.

"Yes, we're all in this together, but some of us happen to be in the cooler chess club." Karl added, grinning victoriously.

"Yes well … how about a round of ale and an Obstler for everybody?" Roland tried. "Wilhelm?"

Will didn't really feel like disputing any more. Watching Karl through an argument put you off that. 'I'll have Willibald smite them a bit for suggesting that he should join their club.' he thought. "Yeah, right." he agreed, accepting the big mug and the small, but surprisingly thick-walled shot glass.

Half an hour later he felt his head swimming. This Obstler was no weak stuff. Not that he was going to slump under the table or anything, he just started to feel a little dizzy.

A girl at the other end of the table smiled at him.

He smiled back, which was a very logical reaction since he was absolutely straight and certainly not interested in any blood relatives at all.

**TBC**

**(1) About the little side-blow on the diary, I don't want imply that stories involving the diary thing aren't good or that mine is any better.**

**It's just that I personally always feel so embarrassed at the very thought of the person you've been writing some steaming things about stumbling over these writings.**

**I would never, ever put something like this down on paper and if I did I would be absolutely paranoid about someone reading it and would probably have to burn the lot after an hour or so, by what time I would have developed several neurotic twitches …**

**But that's just me.**

**(2) While I'm sure that the script writers for Blackadder don't have a patent on the phrase "I have a cunning plan.", I can't help thinking of the series whenever I use it, so I don't claim ownership of that line …**


	8. Loosing sleep

**8. Loosing sleep**

Jake looked at his brother. Something seemed not quite right, but he couldn't really put his finger on what it was …

"Will, what big hands you got …"

"All the better to shovel the ground with."

"But Will, what small eyes you got …"

"All the better to not see underground with, where there isn't any light anyway."

"But Will, what …, what … Will, you're a mole!"

"All the better to … oh well, I guess you had to be told one day: You were adopted."

For some reason the younger Grimm felt strangely happy about this.

But then suddenly a ridiculously small gnome with a ridiculously huge pointed hat turned up, spitting green foam and hitting him on the head repeatedly. "Hey, stop it. What is this about?"

Instead of an answer the gnome giggled rather annoyingly and then purred: "Oh Will, you're so fervid."

"That a friend of yours?" Jake asked his brother sceptically, but Will had disappeared. The gnome blurred, wavered, and disappeared as well, leaving a dark room, filled with the distinctive noises of some serious biology being executed.

Jacob blinked and made out two figures tumbling onto his brother's bed. Automatically his hands started groping around the bedside table while his mind took a second longer to catch up with events. 'Yeah, of course. Now where are those damn earplugs?' Finally his searching fingers closed on the highly valued items. Not a moment too early as the noises from the neighbouring bed had rapidly gained in intensity. Hurriedly Jake rammed the plugs home and blissful silence ensued.

Turning his back on the proceedings he tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

What with one thing or another, both brothers hadn't gotten too much sleep that night and so the new day found them yawning and rubbing their eyes in the deserted backyard of some vacant and dilapidated house, trying to think up another plan.

Leaning against a stablewall Jacob squinted, as the merciless morning sun hit him full in the face: "You know, this job is getting really exhausting. How many shows do we have to organize for this town? We shouldn't have accepted it …"

Wilhelm, who had been massaging his pounding temples gave him a cross look. "And you always know best, don't you?"

"Well I _did _suggest to not accept-"

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in, why don't you?" the older man grumbled, throwing his hands up in the air. "Who was supposed to presage that this town is an asylum for completely insane, nerve-wracking lunatics?"

"They can't be that bad. You're taking them to bed." Jake mumbled into his collar, but Will caught the words.

"I don't take _them _to bed. Just one perfectly sweet and pretty girl. Would do you some good to do so yourself from time to time." he returned and for a moment kicked listlessly at the dirt, before glancing up again sharply: "Anyway, I don't see how that's any of your business."

"I wasn't saying it was. Just pointing out that you're being a bit self-contradicting, that's all." Jacob explained calmly.

"We can't live all in denial of our needs like you are. That's unhealthy." his brother added in a nearly defiant voice, as if he felt that he had to defend himself.

"Ah, just forget it. I just wish this job was over already." the younger man sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"How's your head?" Will asked, his tone becoming more sympathetic.

"Unfortunately still attached to me." Jacob lamented, but then turned serious. "No, it's ok. It still hurts, but at least I can move without feeling like it's going to crack open and spill my brains all over the place any second."

"And wouldn't that be such a waste?" his brother smiled. "Seeing as you're the smart one?"

Jake looked up with an amused expression: "What? I'm the smart one? Not you? Wherefrom this modesty dear brother?"

"Well, it was a close run, but really it should be obvious that I'm the _good-looking_ one." the older man elaborated.

That explanation got a snort from the younger one: "Ah, of course. Don't see why I didn't spot that myself."

"Yeah, that was a bit slow." Will agreed. "But as your head is affected you're excused this time. Next time you're failing like this I shall have to do both jobs in personal union though."

"Oh shut up and go get Willibald before I shall be blinded by your greatness." Jake retorted, rolling his eyes and leaning back against the wall again.

**Tsk, Will, ever the hypocrite … **

TBC


	9. Road to enlightenment

**9. Road to enlightenment **

Another towns meeting, another assignment of a mission, another discussion with an unusual amount of talking time on the part of the audience …

The second entry of the Petermännchen had been effective though.

Willibald had started off supremely, showing lots of frothing around the mouth and roaring in a voice that went straight to the bones: "How dare you offer me membership in your worthless club, you worms? For this insult I shall kill you all!"

Poor Bertwin, who had been elected to carry the offer forward, broke down on the spot and had to be nursed back to his senses by Paul with a large amount of chamomile tea later.

While this was an impressive effect, it was spoiled a little by Bertwin lying on the ground crying and whimpering: "Oh God, no, please, don't use your magic powers on me. Please, have mercy, oh no …"

As he didn't run away, Willibald had to improvise and that was where things got a little out of hand.

"Well, no, I shall not use my magic powers on you now, because …" the evil spirit started, now less monumental. "Because, because right now, I have decided not to. I could, if I wanted to, but I don't want to right now, so I shan't! Har Har!"

If Willibald had hoped that his victim would use this puzzling unwillingness to torture him for escape purposes he had been too still didn't move, apart from the uncontrolled shivering of his whole body and babbled on unintelligibly.

Jake, who knew Willibald's essentially kind nature, started to fear that he would soon try and comfort the man and wondered if he should interfere.

Wilhelm was probably thinking along the same lines as he shut his eyes in horrified despair.

"Hah, yes, flee, you lowly …" Willibald started against all evidence of flight on Bertwin's part. But then he suddenly howled in pain, when a thrown egg caught his ear with amazing force and precision.

"I don't know what's up with evil spirits these days." Karl muttered. "Bunch of cissy wimps the lot of them."

Things would have been pretty stuck if Paul hadn't used the confusion to step in bravely and pick up the quivering Bertwin. Confronted with the blacksmith's impressive stature the evil spirit opted for a hasty retreat, but managed a final threat: "Yes, now you're brave. But just you wait until I feel like using my magic powers again. And I shall really consider it now. And then I shall kill you all. Har, har!"

'Well, it could have been worse.' Jake thought to himself. 'For example, um, yes, Willibald could have stumbled, fallen over, lost his costume and landed face first in a random bowl of custard.'

And luckily Bertwin had sworn to high heaven that the Petermännchen had thrown an immobility curse on him, which had barred him from running away.

The citizens were quite impressed by this. And so they saw the need for a professional exorcism.

They didn't see the need for quite such an expensive exorcism though …

Jacob looked up at his brother, who fought to maintain the upper hand in the negotiations, with sincere sympathy.

"And you really shouldn't enrage him further by throwing eggs at him, that could be very dangerous. You're lucky he didn't retaliate immediately." the older Grimm just now instructed his audience.

"Maybe he's allergic to eggs?" a small man with a permanently runny nose suggested.

Wilhelm gave him a pained look and slowly shook his head: "I … don't … think … so."

"Why, you never know, people have the strangest allergies." the guy went on. "My aunt Johanna for example, she was allergic to candlewax."

"Just don't throw anything. Leave it to us, that's important, all right?" Will tried to interrupt him, but the man stopped his speech only for the occasional snuffling: "I remember one day she was so greedy eating her birthday cake that she wasn't careful and she turned all blue and we had to wave a three-day-dead badger under her nose to get her breathing again."

"That's nothing." came another voice. "My cousin Christian, he has this allergic reaction to freshly mown grass and one summer his legs were so swollen he couldn't walk."

Recognizing the signs, Wilhelm hurried to break the discussion: "Ok, are we agreed on-"

But it was too late: King Gossip the multi-tongued already reigned supreme.

"Oh go on, he was just simulating because he was too lazy to help with the hay harvest."

"Simulating? With legs the size of tree trunks?"

"He seemed to have green spit. Maybe that was an allergic reaction?"

"No, that was a sign of his demonic nature."

"Nah, I don't think demons have green spit. Isn't it blue blood that identifies them?"

"If you ask me that Christian is a lazy bastard. Allergy my ass."

"I once had green spit after eating spinach."

"Nah, that just was usual spit with green bits in."

"Johanna, Johanna, … is she the one who always ran around with that horrible little dog?"

"No, you're thinking of Clara. Johanna was the one who organized the pig-gutting-competition, remember?"

"Ah, yes. Now there was a woman who knew how to handle her guts …" **(1)**

As the room filled with the buzz of at least a dozen little conversations again, Wilhelm stood with an almost solemn expression on his face, eyes screwed up onto the ceiling and concentrated on taking regular breaths. When he tore his gaze from the roof interior after a while it met his brother's who shrugged in a gesture of fatalistic resignedness and gave him a little smile.

Will walked over to the younger one, sat down next to him and pulled a thermos flask from the bag that was placed under the seat. "I figured this might take a little longer, so I brought some chamomile tea …"

Jake was startled: "You did? Chamomile tea? A beverage that's basically hot water with some dried flowers thrown in?"

"Yes, well, I think this whole experience is teaching me inner strength and humility and equanimity."

"You do?" The confusion on Jacob's face was still growing, when the aroma from the now open flask reached his nose and instantly made his eyes water.

"Yep. And just to help enlightenment along a little," Will carried on, pouring a steaming mug for himself, "I've added half a bottle of rum."

**(1) I really do like that German woman from the movie, what is she serving? Blood sausage?**

**Anyway the beaming look on her face when she says "I gutted the pig myself!" is just priceless. **

TBC


	10. The amazing bonding qualities of the

**10. The amazing bonding qualities of the chamomile plant**

The general opinion about this towns-meeting was very positive.

That Wilhelm Grimm had turned out to be a very likeable young man after all.

He hadn't done any more shouting and had even laughed lengthy and merrily at some of their stories.

When they decided to move the negotiations to Alfred's inn he had agreed without fuss and had even dared a dance with Mrs. Schenker. And, in the later hours, one with Roland the mayor as well.

He had seemed a little irritated at the fact that young Liesl had shown more interest in his brother than in him, but really all the other girls were gloating over him and there was not one man in the room that night who wouldn't have happily entrusted his daughter to him, after such a cosy and convivial evening.

Jacob had then withdrawn early and without Liesl, claiming that he still hadn't completely recovered from his fall and after a while someone had pointed out, that it was long gone midnight and that the Petermännchen had made no new appearance, which suited everyone fine.

So the exorcism had been postponed to the coming night.

And a big cheer had risen to Wilhelm's rather slurred declaration:

"Don't fret no more, my dearest friends, your sala, savage, sav .., I shall save you.

Tomorrow."

TBC


	11. May contain dandruff

**11. May contain dandruff**

"Good luck Will. You'll show him, eh?" A man who didn't belong to the group of usual suspects that accompanied the brothers to their hopefully last deployment concerning the Petermännchen gave Wilhelm a friendly pat on the shoulder and nodded to him before they set off.

Jake turned to his brother with a lopsided grin: "Looks like you finally made some friends here."

"Oh, you know, they're not too bad, once you get to know them." the older Grimm mumbled a little sheepishly.

"Especially the innkeeper's wife seems to have taken quite a shine to you." his brother went on, smirking.

"Well, you should have heard her comments on your chest-muscles while you were digging."

"What? Are you kidding me?" The speed at which the colour drained from Jake's face was nearly uncanny.

Wilhelm grinned smugly: "Absolutely not …"

* * *

Amidst the ruins of the old castle, the brothers prepared for their final showdown.

Will presented a small glass vial to the onlookers who were watching in raw fascination.

"So, we have this water in which twelve virgins have washed their hair by moonlight and then subsequently have died of a severe chill." **(1)**

"These girls were a bit hydrophobic." Roland frowned, observing the vial.

"Well, obviously it's not _all_ the water they used. This is highly potent stuff. The innocence, their sacrifice and the energy of the moon-rays are all in here."

"And dandruff possibly." Fridolin volunteered.

"Possibly." Wilhelm agreed to avoid any potential argument.

Fridolin gave a little shudder: "Ick, now that'd exorcise _me_."

"Poor girls" Paul commented in his usual rather monosyllabic manner.

"Hah, serves them right for jumping around at night for their little washing session. Very unhygienic. In my days decent people washed in daylight, every Sunday ten sharp." Karl declared condescendingly.

"Yeah, no wonder they were virgins if they spent the night washing their hair …" Mrs. Schenker sniggered.

With a short clearing of the throat Will continued his illustrations: "So, the water will extinguish the fire of his eternally burning soul and thus send him to heaven."

"Heaven?" Roland asked doubtfully, his face clearly indicating, that in _his_ book heaven wasn't exactly the final destination held in store for murderous evil spirits.

"Well, not the first rate heaven for the really holy people of course. But more the economy class heaven where the seats are a little less comfy and you have to pay for your own nectar and ambrosia. But certainly better than hell. So his soul is going to be at peace. Or, if it isn't, it's more likely to complain to the management than to haunt your town. Still, someone has to distract him. He mustn't spot our intent." And saying that Wilhelm turned to his brother: "Jake, you're going to be the bait."

"Well ain't that a surprise…" the younger one muttered to himself.

"I'm going to jump up from behind, pour the water on him and speak the banishment. All right, that's it. Let's get started. Where's my … damn!" Visibly annoyed at himself the older Grimm sacked and turned around in a search he already knew to be fruitless.

This behaviour was rewarded with several questioning faces: "What is it?"

"I forgot the sword. I can't go unarmed."

A spade's handle was proffered into the blond man's face. "I brought my shovel, just in case." Karl explained.

Turning it over in his hands, Will inspected the offered instrument and then shrugged: "Better'n nothing, I guess."

Fully armed with shovel and vial, he nodded to his younger brother, who walked out into the ring of pillars and shouted: "Hey demon! Show yourself and face me!"

Instantly Willibald strode out of the shadows: "Who dares to soil my halls with his unworthy presence? Hah, but you will not leave again alive."

The evil spirit flicked his wrist and threw his fingers out at the younger Grimm as if to spray him with water.

On cue Jake's voice took on a very fake panicky tone: "Oh no, it's a spell. I can't move!"

In the meantime Wilhelm had been sneaking round the clearance and now rose from behind the Petermännchen, shovel raised menancingly, like a strangely agricultural-minded avenging angel.

"Begone foul fiend, your evil reign is now finished!" he thundered, pouring the water over Willibald's costume, where it left a ridiculously minuscule stain.

With an earpiercing wail, the Petermännchen vanished in a puff of green smoke, but hissing and wriggling reptiles occupied the spot he had been standing on.

Still standing immobile Jacob exclaimed anxiously: "Will, his spell is still on me, crush the snakes, his soul is hiding in there. Oh he's trying to choke me." And gasping and wheezing he repeated his plea in more urgent tones: "I can't breathe, he's choking me. Quick, crush the snakes."

Will coughed and felt tears sting his burning eyes. He could hardly see a thing in the bloody smoke. But there was no time to be lost. So with a cry of "I'm coming!" he just jumped in and smashed Karl's shovel on the spot where he suspected the snakes to be with as much force as he could muster.

But unluckily the voice that yelled out in pain was distinctly familiar: "AOW! Thanks, Will…"

"Ooh, I'm sorry…"

"Never mind." came the very feeble reply from somewhere within the smoke.

Through the green wisps he made out the form of his sibling, hunched up on the ground and cradling his leg, face contorted with pain.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry …" Will started meekly.

"Snakes …" Jake managed through clenched teeth and pointed his chin towards the heap of writhing crawlers, that knew nothing about the fate they had so narrowly escaped just now.

Will looked down and jumped in alarm: "Ew, horrid beasts, get away from me."

"It's only slowworms …" Jake mumbled but Will didn't hear him as, gripping the shovel on the furthest possible point and standing back as far as practicable he gave the poor animals a hysteric beating until there were reduced to nothing more but smear on the stone.

Finally the green smoke had lifted.

"Well, no need to bury these any more." Jake commented dryly into the exhausted silence as his brother stood panting. "No soul of pure evil with any standards is going to hide in something that looks suspiciously as if it was a stork's dinner just having come up the other way."

Suspecting the main excitement to be over, the town people approached cautiously. "Is it gone?" the mayor questioned nervously.

"Observe" Jake stated with just a trace of mocking, "the remaining smudges of the Petermännchen." And he gestured towards the unsavoury grey pulp.

"You're completely safe now." Will affirmed.

"Well, jolly good. Well done brothers. I say, this asks for a victory party." Roland declared. "Everybody off to Alfred's!" And with a concerned glance at Jake who still resided on the ground, he added: "Oh, I see you got wounded in the fight, Jacob, can you walk?"

"I can carry you, no trouble." Paul offered, but met with Wilhelm's stern look: "Thank you, Paul, I think I can support him myself."

The smile the older Grimm received from his younger brother made his stomach flutter a little and with a cough he hastily ushered the people on: "Well, off you go, no good hanging around here. Bad karma, you know …"

While the citizens walked on ahead, talking and arguing urgently about the spectacle they had witnessed, the brothers fell behind a little, as Jacob hobbled along slowly, one arm round the older man's shoulder.

For once, Wilhelm seemed quite contend: "What do you think? Should we stay here over Christmas? Such a lovely little town …"

Not quite trusting his ears, Jacob treated his brother to a surprised frown. But when he saw nothing but open honesty in the older one's eyes he nodded in acceptance: "But _not_ at the Schenkers!"

"Nah, wouldn't want to have you ravished in your bed …"

**No slowworms were hurt in the writing of this chapter.**

**Nor do I support any form of cruelty against slowworms.**

**Well, um, that's it. Hope you enjoyed.**

**(1) The dying of a severe chill is from "The importance of being earnest" if you're being finicky …**


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